Our Coptic Orthodox tradition has so much inherent beauty and such an incredible, rich history. Its contributions to the whole of Christendom cannot be overstated. Much of what we take for granted today, such as monasticism, the Jesus Prayer, Biblical exegesis, Trinitarian theology, and Christology, to name a few, were developed by the Egyptian ascetics and Alexandrian fathers. Being ancient, our Church has gone through turbulent and difficult times, as any long standing institution that is exposed to time will face, except greatly magnified as a Church of Christ, facing persecution and oppression from the forces of evil. Its resilience and incredible resurgence today can only be attributed to Divine providence.

This deep, long history has impacted the Church in many positive ways. But the Church does not exist in a vacuum, and we are not immune to negative cultural influences as well. It is no secret the Coptic Orthodox Church reached somewhat of a low-point prior to the reforms of Pope Kyrillos VI. Allow me to share some early 19th and 20th century accounts of Westerners observing the Copts for the first time.

During the Mass, men and women promenade up and down outside on the board cloister pavement; there is often such a turmoil in the church that the priest steps down and implores the people to stop talking. In the church itself the congregation this morning were talking and moving about in seeming indifference, expending their devotion on leaving a suitable offering in the poor- box, though all the time in close proximity to the altar and within a few paces of the closed chancel, which was divided from the nave by a golden screen, where the frescos of fair-complexioned saints in familiar raiments smiled down on us in complaisant friendliness , the only near relations we had in that sea of bronze- colored brethren. Vainly we sought to maintain a good personal example of attentive devotion … Meanwhile, the ranks of altar boys were increased by others, who came into the Holy of Holies, put on their white vestments in full view of the public, and walked about the enclosure with an unconcerned air. … [The crowd] rushing forward to the open screen to receive the bread, and striving to receive the patriarchal blessing, the tumult increased almost to a panic, while the distinguished prelate was protected only by two strong arms, reached out with an unconcealed intent to knock down the clamorous multitude in one strong blow. The service ended, the boys, who leaned their elbows on the altar,…were again the little ragged street boys who would in another moment join their comrades in a game of marbles by the church steps.

In Cairo and Jerusalem, Mary Carpenter, 1894, p. 170

Despite this, the author recounts how she was touched by her encounter with a young Coptic boy.

In a morning of two years ago at this same old church, I listened to a voice that struck a note higher than the others, with more of feeling in the tone ; I noticed it came from the little Coptic chorus-boy leaning against the golden chancel screen, who seemed to rise on tiptoe to pour forth his full strength in this chanted song of praise. A thin, pallid face it was, thrown back and lit up with such longing; his little frame vibrated with the inner emotion, and the quivering throat throbbed as does a bird that bursts forth in song. Between the chants, his hands moved nervously and his features worked in painful excitement, so that it often happened that the moment to respond was slightly anticipated by the chorister. My heart followed the boy in his ecstasies: he seemed to reach what we could not see; and more real than the world about us was his world, peopled with the saints of Coptic teaching he had learned about in their glory of heaven. Rapt in the reality of the beatific vision, his sole joy was in the songs of adoring worship, which every day he sang to those he saw plainer than any in the great congregation, for he was blind. The boy had always haunted my memory; the year past I often dreamed of that spiritualized gaze and that ringing voice, and wished to hear it again. Now that I stood in the dear old place, I hardly dared to look up, for I thought the frail boy had gone to his boy loves, the maris [saints]; but there he was, his pale brow carved like a della Robbia against a cloud of gold, still singing, the same pure look on his face, which was now pressed ardently against the pale cheek of the screen-angel.

In Cairo and Jerusalem, Mary Carpenter, 1894, p. 171

Here is an interesting footnote from a Roman Catholic priest observing a service.

In small churches there is no choir; the people sing the responses. In practice the celebrant, deacon, and one or two more learned laymen get through the office at a tremendous pace, then begin the preparation of the liturgy. There is often no deacon. So the celebrant takes his part too, and manages as best he can with help from people standing round. They are all very careless, and often ignorant what to do next. They stop and argue about it at the top of their voices in excited Arabic.

The Lesser Eastern Churches, Fr. Adrian Fontescue, 1913, p. 282

In wonderment though, he says

They sing chant after chant in the ancient tongue which they do not understand themselves ; but the ghosts of their fathers know it, Rameses II would know it, and the heavenly powers whom they address know it. Then, in the same way as the colours of the holy icons gleam from the gloom around, so out of the Coptic come familiar fragments of Greek ; suddenly you realize that what they are singing is: “Agios o Theos, agios ischyros, agios athanatos, o stavrotheis di’ imas (memory of Peter the Dyer!) eleison imas.” So here amid the dirt and the incense smoke, while Coptic and Greek roll around the haikal screen, you may dream of the mighty men who once lived here, Pachomius and Pambo, Antony star of the desert, and Paul, the first hermit, Athanasius fleeing from the sword of Constantius. For the sake of these glorious memories, for the sake, too, of the long line of their martyrs under Islam, we can feel nothing but respect, wish nothing but good to the people of Christ in Egypt. They have stood for his name so faithfully during the long, dark centuries now past. May they stand for it always in happier ages to come.

The Lesser Eastern Churches, Fr. Adrian Fontescue, 1913, p. 289


What do we notice from these accounts? An informal atmosphere, general chaos and disorder, and a lack of understanding. But in both accounts, despite the outward appearance, the observers knew there was something absolutely special, and seemingly divine, about what they were witnessing. I have served in, and attended, many churches throughout the United States and I feel this still holds true today, in 2025.

What I cannot understand, or maybe accept, is why we behave the same way, for the most part, despite our insanely different circumstances. Copts are one of the most successful minorities here in the West. When it comes to professional and academic endeavors, we take these with the utmost seriousness. This is indeed a great thing, but why is there a completely different standard, a very low one, in our church? I am of course generalizing here, and this is my opinion, but I feel I have enough datapoints to make this generalization. If you need proof check out how many “Coptic meme” channels we have. What other church has this? If you don’t believe me please attend an Eastern Orthodox service and note just how serious they take things. The way they vest, the way they sound, the way they dress, the way they conduct themselves.

The Great Entrance, a rite once found in our Coptic tradition, and somewhat present in our nightly feasts, where the offerings are processed into the altar with great reverence.

Yes, much of this is cultural, or was out of necessity, as I have highlighted above, but this cannot be the final form. We, as sons and daughters of the church, must continue to move things forward, as our forefathers have done. Our fathers did the best they could with what they had. Times change and so does culture. Our church was originally developed in Hellenistic, Greek-speaking Alexandria. How much overlap do you think modern, Arabized Egypt has with that original culture? If anything, our Western culture today has many more similarities with Alexandria of old. And lest you be tempted to think that somehow, disorder increases holiness, we can turn to Saint Paul, who directly addressed the disorderly church of Corinth:

Let all things be done decently and in order. — 1 Corinthians 14:40


We have an absolute treasure that needs, nay is required of us, to share. To quote Jonathan from Roots of Orthodoxy:

I have never felt the Holy Spirit working through a church more so than in the Coptic church…I can feel the Holy Spirit working in this church more than any other church.

Our church service revolves around the institution of the Eucharist. It is not some rote ritual we just need to stumble through every Sunday. It should be beautiful. The altar should be reserved for our most capable and qualified deacons. Our best readers should be the ones that read. Our best chanters should lead the congregation in worship. Our priests should be fully vested. We should do everything we can to bring our congregants as close to the heavenly realm as possible. We should keep in mind the famous quote of Vladimir the Great, when attending a service in the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople in 1110 AD:

We knew not whether we were in Heaven or on Earth … We only know that God dwells there among the people, and their service is fairer than the ceremonies of other nations.

This experience led him to adopt Orthodox Christianity as the official religion of the Russian empire.

The Baptism of Rus’ By Klavdy Lebedev, Public Domain

Ultimately, if we truly believe God is present on the altar, which of course, He is, shouldn’t that cause us to bring forth our very best?

Around You stand the Cherubim, and the Seraphim, and they cannot look at You.

We behold You upon the Altar and we partake of Your body and Your precious blood.

The hymn, “The Bread of Life”

It goes without saying that nothing we do can ever be adequate in the presence of Our Lord, but we can certainly try our best. We have to also be careful not to move to the other end of the extreme. We need to allow room for discipleship, for others to get involved. I am simply advocating for us to raise the bar and reexamine our rich past.

Allow me to outline a couple of suggestions that can provide a good start to get the ball rolling.

(Forgive me for sounding preachy but some have asked to provide clear, concrete actions that can be taken.)

1. Phone Usage

This should be obvious but open phone use is not reverent. Deacons, clergy, and laity are all on their phones. Many will excuse this by saying they’re using Coptic Reader, a lectionary app. Besides the fact that phones are distraction machines, the optics of having people constantly, or sporadically, look at their phones are very poor. We should take pride in producing beautiful liturgical books with accurate translations.

2. Electronics in the Sanctuary

Most parishes have multiple TVs, cameras, and monitors scattered throughout the sanctuary, with wires running all over the place. There is value in having the liturgical text available for the congregation to follow along with and in livestreaming services. Having the laity able to participate during the liturgy due to the simplicity of the responses is a great advantage that not many other traditions have. However, many parishes do this without restraint, with an unreasonable amount of screens and displays built into the iconostasis itself! A small number of displays and cameras, thoughtfully included within the design, but not distracting from the sacred architecture, will go a long ways to maintaining the paradoxically ancient yet timeless beauty of an Orthodox sanctuary.

3. Order and Stillness

That reminds me - I should perhaps say (sorry!) that I did not find the people as reverent and attentive as for example in a Catholic church…I found the constant chatting, and coming and going in and out of the church, quite frustrating.

Anonymous feedback from a visitor

Once seated, movement should be kept to a minimum. This should apply to everyone in the sanctuary, no matter the station or role. Verbal communication should be kept to an absolute minimum. Children should be seated next to a parent and not allowed to roam around the sanctuary, completely unsupervised. This is basic etiquette that is respected everywhere except for our churches which which are sadly treated like personal living rooms. Again, if you think this is infeasible, please attend a nearby Eastern Orthodox church and observe.

4. Proper Vestments

And after this, he puts on him the complete priestly vestment and it is seven pieces. These are the tunic [tūnyah], the girdle [zinnār], the two sleeves [al-akmām], and he hangs on his neck the epitrachelion [birashl], and the interpretation of epitrachelion is thousand rocks and it is a Greek word. Then he puts on him the taylasān and clothes him with the phelonion [burnus] without a hood [qaslah], and thus the seven pieces that belong to the vestment are completed.

Tartb al-Kahanūt or The Order of the Priesthood, Towards a History of Liturgical Vestments in the Coptic Rite: I - Minor Orders, Deacons, and Presbyters, Fr. Arsenius Mikhail



The way we dress is indicative of the environment we seek to create. When we attend a wedding we put on our finest apparel to celebrate a very special occasion for the bride and bridegroom. The same logic applies to dress in a professional workplace. If one, for whatever reason, does not have the means to dress for the occasion, this is easily excused. We know from historical records that the dress of clergy deteriorated over time most likely due to poverty and oppression.

Thank God this is no longer the case, especially here in the West. Our church vestments indicate that the environment and the act being performed are sacred. Many priests, when officiating sacraments, wear an epitrachelion now which is at least some progress. Some might be tempted to argue that a priest dressing ostentatiously flies in the face of the ascetic simplicity we are keen to promote. Yes, again, we can go to an extreme here but that is not what I am advocating. Others might say full vestments are impractical due to being too complex or uncomfortable. To that I would say our vestments are extremely similar to our Eastern Orthodox brethren who wear the full set every single liturgy. One difference is that their vestments are constructed to be worn frequently, so the phelonion isn’t heavy, the epitrachelion doesn’t reach behind the back, etc. Easy problem to solve.

The same applies to deacons. Wearing a wrinkled, stained sticharion (tonia) indicates one is oblivious of the environment they are in.

To put it simply: Now that we are able to, we should return to our historical vesting rites, and promote the beauty and sanctity of the service.

5. Diaconate

A Greek Orthodox deacon proclaiming εν σοφία πρόσχωμεν prior to the Nicene Creed.

Serving as a deacon is a great privilege. No one is entitled to it. The diaconate is an office that is required for a liturgy to be performed. As a deacon, you take part in assisting the priest, instructing the congregation, and leading the people in worship. Again, it is a great privilege.

However, there has to be a standard. It should not be some free-for-all where we throw essentially untrained acolytes into the altar and hope for the best every liturgy. Today, it is very popular to put young children, who being in elementary school have elementary reading skills and elementary behavior, in the most essential roles, barely supervised. Yes, there of course has to be room for discipleship, mentorship, and bringing up the next generation. I am a beneficiary of this. This does not however mean we turn our most sacred act into a children’s play.

I go to the central altar and there are deacons plopped down going through their text messages, sending text messages, sleeping, snoring, talking, laughing, telling jokes… These are all descriptives in the holiest place of all — in the altar. It is not just in my parish, it is in every parish I have gone to. You cannot avoid it. — Anonymous

The same applies to adults. We need to have standards. Should we have a pure meritocracy? No. Should we have no standards at all? No. We need to balance between having competent people in the service and bringing up novices. Those that are truly interested in being deacons will present themselves. We can train people on how to serve in the altar, how to sing together as a choir, how to instruct the congregation, how to publicly read scripture, etc. It is very possible. We can improve!

Thankfully, there is some promising movement in this area. In the Southern Diocese of the United States, only ordained sub-deacons are allowed to serve in the altar if available. Testing requirements for each rank have also been established. Coptic Hymns in English has put out several albums demonstrating singing hymns in unison. I am hopeful we will continue to improve in all of these areas.

I exhort you to approach the immolated Lamb with fear, veneration and awe. You certainly know in which manner the angels stood in front of the empty tomb, even though there wasn’t more the body of the Lord. Nevertheless, the angels showed great reverence towards the place which received the body of the Lord. When the angels who by their excellence exceed very much our human nature behave themselves in front of the tomb with so great reverence and awe, how can we approach not the empty tomb, but the sacred table upon which has been laid down the Lamb, with noise and chatter? — St. John Chrysostom

I hope and pray that the Lord will continue to guide our church and inspire our hierarchs to continue to move our church forward given the incredible privileges and freedom our fathers could have only dreamed of.

Please remember me in your prayers :).